


Visiting Hours

by RickylLover



Category: The A-Team (TV)
Genre: Friendship, Invisible dog Billy, Murdock's POV, Other, PTSD, Some Fluff, Some sadness, Visit at the VA, but be aware of possible trigger, flashbacks of Vietnam, not very graphic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2020-10-20 04:41:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20669486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RickylLover/pseuds/RickylLover
Summary: Murdock looks forward to Face visiting him at the VA.





	Visiting Hours

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for stopping by. I hope you enjoy. : )

Bunking at the VA Psych ward ain't exactly Club Med. But, I've been worse places. Like 'Nam. 'Course that's what landed me here. Anyway, it could be worse. They got a VA Cemetary, too. So, I guess I'm lucky I ain't there. They got too many there already.

Most of the staff ain't too bad. Considerin' they gotta keep me on lockdown. But, the head nurse is one angry muchacha. I just keep my head down and try to stay on "Nurse Ratchet's" good side. And that means takin' all my pills. Or fakin' it well enough to convince her, anyway. I just don't see how layin' in bed drugged outta my head watchin' the room spin and the walls melt is gonna help anything.

But, I guess I get lots of therapy, too. I see Dr. Richter once a week, sometimes twice when things get real bad. I even get art therapy. Which mostly consists of painting rocks and glueing googly eyes on shit. They actually think kindergarten craft time is gonna fix me. And they say I'm the crazy one?

Anyway, the food ain't bad. Ain't good either. But, I just try to eat it and hope "Nurse Ratchet" ain't found my stash of "swallowed pills" and put 'em in my oatmeal.

Pea soup is the worst. Looks like somethin' Rosemary's baby spit up. Or some special effects gunk from one of Hannibal's movies. Tastes 'bout the same, too. It's nothin' like the pea soup I get from the diner. So, Faceman is bringin' me a Biffy Burger.

I like when Faceman comes to visit. Not break me out for a job. Just visit. Those are good times. Like everything is normal. And he always brings me that Biffy Burger. And the latest issue of Fantastic Four. Even reads it to me in all the voices. Just like I do in my head. There's probably also a stash of candy bars and other stuff I can't get in here, too. He sweet talks the nurses to let him bring it through. They must think I'm dyin' with all the stuff he's smuggled in.

I'm layin' in bed reading One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest when he comes. But, I hide it under the pillow in case Ratchet's with him and takes it away. She's only happy when I'm watchin' salt and pepper on TV.

Face comes in draggin' some young thing on his arm like a wagon missin' a wheel. "I'm really not supposed to let you bring anything in to Mr. Murdock's room without prior approval," she protests. But, she's really just usin' it as an excuse to stay close. Squeeze his arm.

"Murdock," Face says from behind a giant greasy bag that looks out of place against his spotless white pants and striped cashmere sweater. That bag is so big I just know it has extra fries. _Extra_ extra fries. "They forgot the pickle," he whines.

I know that's code for, _this pretty little candy striper on my arm thinks you're on a hunger strike and too weak to get out of bed_. Even though I'm pretty sure she's the one served me turkey and potatoes last night. Which I ate all of. 'Cause, that shit's the best thing they got 'round here.

We got a code for, _you're hallucinating and I just know this double cheeseburger will snap you out of your episode, _too_. _That's my favorite one to play. But, I go along with the one Face layed out. Which ain't hard since I hate the soup here. And anyway, I've let it sit so long it solidified into green concrete in my bowl.

"Face?" I make my voice as weak as I can. Don't turn my head or pull the sheet up to my chin or nothin'. I just lay there like I'm too weak to move. "I...I...didn't want you to see me like this." I sniffle for effect and it gets Florence Nightengale lookin' all concerned.

He sits the bag down on my bedside table. Strategically blocking the offending green goo from my sight. And the smell of that Biffy Burger has me wantin' to break character and scarf it down. But, I just blink at him. My face as slack as my pills would make it if I actually took them.

"Murdock," Face pleads, finding my hand under the blanket to squeeze. "I need you to sit up for me." His voice is soft, but not like he uses on cons. On the little blonde attached to him. Right now it's sincere.

"Can't," I whine as pathetically as I can. And I've let a little drool collect in the corner of my mouth, but I can't make it roll out and down my chin for the life of me.

Faceman sighs and a tear rolls down his cheek on cue like I wish I could get my spit to do. He uses his free arm that isn't attached to little Miss Blondie and works the controls of my bed to a sitting position. And _that_ finally causes me to dribble. And it takes everything, _everything_, I have not to grin as I'm sitting there lookin' like the idiot we want her to think I am.

Face shoots me a wink, dabbing my chin with a greasy napkin he's pulled out of the bag. "The doctors are worried, aren't they, Miss...Miss?" He turns to the little blonde, who incidentally hasn't let go of his arm yet. And he scans her name tag before boring those beautiful blue eyes of his into her. "Caroline," he coos so softly _I_ want to eat out of the palm of his hand. "Caroline," he frees his arm so deftly she don't even realize he's pullin' away. Puttin' distance between 'em. "Sweet...sweet Caroline," he practically sings it. And now he has me hummin' Neil Diamond in my head.

Blondie finally tears her attention away from Faceman and looks me over. Starin' at my hair. I'd messed it up real good 'fore Face got here. Wanna look crazy as I can. She sighs, "He does look pretty bad. Pale, too." But, it's not like I get out much. I don't exactly have free reign 'round here.

"I really need to get him to eat," Face is backing away from her and she still don't get it. "Or he'll..." he looks back at me, forcing her to do the same, so I make a little bubble of the spit left in the corner of my mouth. "Or," he turns back to her, captivating her with the way his hair swings from the movement. "Or he'll die!" He shrieks and dramatically pulls the curtain between them.

That finally got her packing. And Face plops down on the bed next to me and dishes out the food.

"You know, Faceman," I wasn't even tryin' to contain my grin now. "I think you're slipping." I unwrap my burger. "That took so long to pull off the food's gone cold," I pouted. But, he knew I was teasing. I don't care if it's cold. Still tastes good. Better than anything they serve here, anyway. And, ya can't beat the company.

"Well," he feigned indignation as he shut me up with a French fry shoved in my mouth. "It would have gone smoother if you could drool on cue." He took a large bite of his Biffy Burger. "After all these years of playing crazy, you'd think you'd have learned to do that by now," he teased, talking through a mouthful.

It was unlike him to be so crass. Unlike the persona he puts on, anyway. And that's why I like him and these visits. And he likes 'em, too. 'Cause, with each other, just us, we get to be ourselves. I get to be sane. And he gets to be a little crazy.

After awhile our banter turns into silence as we finish our food. Right down to the last _extra_ extra fry. And _this_ is the best therapy I get. The only thing that helps. Not glueing googly eyes on shit. Though, one time I put them all over the nurse's station after "Ratchet" had been mean to a guy who's cuckoo. I mean _really_ cuckoo. I put those fuckers on her phone, her chair, her pen, everything. And that helped the tiniest bit. But, only for a second. Because, it wasn't real.

Being with Face was real. He's a good con man 'cause he reads people like a book. Not like the shit my chart says. What _I_ say. Without words. See, he knows what I suffer from ain't insanity, its guilt. 'Cause I made it back when others didn't. He really could be a psychologist. Except that would be the biggest con of all. Those fuckers can't help anybody. But, Face helps.

I slipped up. I was quiet too long. He caught me. Shifted off the bed to grab my chart. "Let's see what Richter says about you this week," he flipped through the notes of my last session. He'd wiped his hands and was careful not to leave a mark on it.

"Hmmmm..." he sucked his teeth. "Says here you had a bad dream about little green men coming out of the floor to take you away." He tossed the file back into the slot at the foot of my bed like the trash it was.

He returned to his place on the bed beside me. Bumping shoulders and melting into me. Not like the walls melt. But, like he wanted me to know he was there. Not just there in the room _with_ me. There _for_ me. "What did you really dream about, Murdock?" His voice was so quiet I would have thought I was hearing things, if I really was crazy.

I don't know what it is about the way he asks me things, but I just wanna tell him. All the things I can't tell Richter. Or anyone else. My breath rattles in my chest and I choke on the memories bubbling up. Closin' my eyes don't make 'em go away. Never makes 'em go away.

It took me awhile to speak. But, he waited for me to be ready. Didn't try to prompt me too soon. "Billy," I finally say. And sayin' it out loud made it real again. So real again. Only this time Face would be there with me, so I knew I'd be okay.

"Your door gunner before you got assigned to our unit," he spoke softly. And it wasn't a question. He knew I didn't mean my invisible dog Billy.

I nodded. Trying to shake it from my head. But, it wouldn't let go. Neither would Face. He'd worked his arm around me. "When you're ready, tell me what you dreamt about Billy."

And suddenly I was back. In Vietnam. In my chopper. On that terrible day. They were all terrible days. My heart started racin' and I broke out in a sweat. It was so muggy. I couldn't breathe. That and... "Smoke," I choked the word out, could feel it burning my throat. "So much smoke...From...bodies on fire." Black as the cinders you throw out after a cookout. "And from other choppers on the ground." Twisted, they were so twisted. Blades bent and broken off.

"We were called in to pick up wounded. We circled and Billy layed down cover fire just so they could get 'em to the LZ." Six. There were six that trip. And I remember every face. "More'n we had racks for, but we'd stack 'em on the floor if we had to just to get 'em all." Usually did.

"Then the black smoke turned purple and I could see their signal, where they wanted me to land." Not much room, like threadin' a needle gettin' in there. "We took heavy fire, but we got in...And then the smoke cleared and..." I didn't have to tell him what I saw. He'd seen it, too. Guys with limbs fallin' off. Blood. So much blood.

Face leaned in. "You got 'em all, though." He knows I never leave a man behind. Even if those men were just little boys. Barely eighteen.

I nodded. Just because I got 'em all don't mean they all made it. I never could live with that. "We took heavy fire, they hit the fuel line." Gauges were goin' off. Screamin' at me. Or was it all those kids back there? "Didn't think we'd make it all the way back to the hospital losin' fuel like that. But, I kept goin' and Billy kept shootin'." And someone kept screamin'. Maybe it was me.

Suddenly I opened my eyes. Because, I knew Face would be there. Needed him there for this. I took a deep breath, at his prompting. "It wasn't until we unloaded 'em all that I realized Billy'd been hit." Belly shot. Through and through. "I never even thought any of the blood on him was _his_."

"He just...fell into my arms and..." Faceman don't make me say it. _Died_. But, he knew.

I've never told anyone that before. I don't even think I've ever admitted it to myself before. That it was my fault. And I felt myself drowning in all that blood and those screams. But, Face pulled me out.

"What did you do after that, Murdock?" This time the tear on his cheek was real. Like mine.

"That's where the dream always ends, Faceman," I shake my head. "I wake up and I can't sleep. If I don't sleep, I don't dream." But, I'm so tired.

Face nodded. "The dream might stop there, Murdock, but you didn't."

It was horrible what I did. But, I knew he'd understand. "I...left him...I..." Jesus, I just left him there.

Face was meltin' into me again. Right now I kind of wanted the walls to melt, too. Open up and swallow me whole. "Walk me through it." He was soothing, not urging. "You stood up..." he started for me.

"And...I turned...and I saw...I saw the chopper and...the door Billy should've been sittin' in. And the blood. So much blood on the floor I didn't think we's ever gonna get it out." We didn't. "And the rotors still spinnin'." Ready to go away. Far away.

"And I...I snapped...snapped out of it and remembered there were more Billies," I choked, "I mean boys...more boys out there." Always more wounded. Never ending.

"And you went back," Face spoke softly. Again not a question. He knew it. "You went back into that mess." He squeezed me into him. "Without a gunner, and a hole in your fuel line."

I didn't speak. My thoughts were like ink blots I couldn't translate even if I could make my mouth work.

"You went back six more times," Face finished the story. "I read the report. We all did before they assigned you to our unit." He sighed like he had the weight of the world on him. The weight of my world, my head, anyway. "It's easy, it's natural to dwell on the losses," he was quiet again. "But, it helps to remember all the ones that made it back."

"You know," his eyes brightened, "I made it back because of you. Hannibal. B. A." He held me like I was his lifeline instead of the other way around. "All because of you."

What he was sayin' was crazier than the shit I made up all the time. But, it also made sense. He always helped me see sense. And my head fell onto his shoulder. And I slept. Without dreaming. For the first time in a long time. No dreams. No screams. Not even from me.

I don't know how long I was out when "Ratchet" came by for a bed check. They don't trust us loonies. To stay put, take our meds, or anything. She was hollerin' at the top of her lungs. Not unusual, but beating Face with a mop was different. Even for her.

"You can't be here," she cracked him a good one, but Face held his ground. "Visiting hours are over."

"But," I protested, "he's just tryin' to be my teddy bear." She cracked me, too. Bitch. "Dr. Richter said I was allowed a comfort animal," I smarted off.

"I'm getting the doctor," she growled and actually snapped the mop in two. No joke. But, it was funny. And Faceman and I laughed as she reeled out of the room.

By the time she came back Face was hiding behind my arcade. Hollowed out in back for just this purpose. And I was sitting up in bed puttin' on a show. Holding up the sheet like she'd caught me naked.

Her face was all scrunched up. "He was in the bed with him and he's babbling about comfort animals!" She reddened like a tomato.

Richter just stared.

"Show him," she growled and ripped the sheet from me.

I just pretended to cradle my invisible dog Billy to me. "But, Dr. Richter, you said I could have him." I stroked Billy. "Good boy." Who's crazy now, bitch?

"No pets," was all she could stammer.

Dr. Richter stared her down on his way out. "I think invisible dogs are okay."

Ratchet growled. "That dog isn't real, you nut," she poked my chest. Through Billy. Who I'm sure would have snapped at her. But, she was right. He ain't real. "He's just a figment of your disassociative disorder," she tapped my chest again. Hard. "Something you can't let go of." She was spitting now. Grabbed Billy by the collar. "But, I'm taking him away and I hope you spiral into a catatonic state so deep you never come out!" She dragged Billy out by the leash.

"I'm taking him away," she repeated when she got to the door. Because, she hadn't gotten the reaction she was hoping for. But, she was nuttier than an almond bar if she thought that would effect me. Face had already helped me let go of Billy.

My room was a mess after the scuffle. When Face finally crawled out of the arcade he righted the few things he knew were important to me. "Wow, they oughta lock her up," he dropped back onto the bed beside me.

"Don't worry, Face," I sighed. "She's in the right place for that." I just hope she takes all her pills.

**Author's Note:**

> I know I took some liberties with the origins of invisible dog Billy, but I hope it worked. Thanks for reading. : )


End file.
